Baked ziti for Annalena's galpal Debra B

Ragazzi,  along the history of this blog you have read of  Annalena's obsession with her weight, then her period of time with the "Tiny Beast," Ms. Emily, and now, her time with the Paraguayan pummeler, Sebastian.  It does work.  She urges all of you who are thinking about it, to do it:  get to a gym, and do something.  Don't think "it's not enough," because whatever it is, it is more than you would be doing sitting on the sofa.

In the course of her gym exploits, Annalena has made a group of friends, one of whom is the aforementioned Debra B.  Amici, if you could see how the lovely Ms. D. has TRANSFORMED herself with the work she has done.  Annalena is jealous.  Once, the poster child of the local gym, she has been supplanted by this upstart Ms. B.

BRAVISSIMA RAGAZZA!!!!  If there were one person to whom Annalena would gladly turn over the reigns of power, it is to you, mia fratellina. 

So, when Debra asked Annalena "how do you make a good pan of baked ziti," there was no way to act other than to post it for ALL of you to see. 

NOT for all of you to EAT.  Debra B and I are going to eat this.  For the rest of you:  As Rupaul once said  "You better WERK."

Ok, baked ziti.  First, some geeky cultural history here.  Baked ziti are Italian American.  They are NOT Italian.  The only authentic  "pasta al forno "  (baked pasta) dishes  which Annalena is aware of are lasagna and canneloni.  (NOT manicotti mind you..)  The origins of baked ziti are not clear.  One rather clever one works off of the idea that "zito," in Italian, is a bridegroom.  So, one would serve a large pan of these at a wedding supper, and since the dish is relatively easy to prepare, the bridegroom would make it.

Yet another plays off of slang which has "a box of ziti" to mean 1,000.  Serving a pan of baked ziti is to indicated wealth.

Well, whatever.  Choose your stories, but let's cook.  Ultimately, this is an easy dish if you make it correctly.  And even though you CAN substitute just about any pasta you would like for this,  somehow, ziti feel more comforting and more tasty.  In fact, Annalena is thinking she may make these herself.

Let us proceed.  We need sauce first, and what could be easier than Marcella Hazan's basic tomato?  That recipe is here, but let's review it.  Two large cans of tomatoes.  If they are whole, crush them with your hands.  If they are already broken up, pour them directly into a large pot.    Now take an onion, and from the top, make a vertical cut.  Then, make one 90 degrees to the first, but do not cut all the way through.  You want the onion to stay together if possible.  Remove the skin, put the onion in with the tomatoes and then add 1.5 sticks of unsalted butter.  Turn the heat to AS LOW AS POSSIBLE,  and let it cook for at least an hour, preferably an hour and a half.  When the liquid has reduced by about 1/4-1/3 (or even more), you are done.  Season it with salt and if you happen to have some fresh basil on hand, in it goes.

So you will have an hour and a half to do other things.  You won't need all of that time.  What you will need, is cheese.  Mozzarella is traditional and, to Annalena's taste, the best.  But you can use fontina, or smoked mozzarella, or any other melting cheese.  If you are not sure if the cheese would melt, ask your cheese monger.  And if s/he doesn't know, find another one.    We will assume you are using fiore di latte mozzarella, which is cow's milk cheese, and rather firm.  Cut the cheese (12 ounces of it), into cubes.  Put them aside, as you ponder whether to do things like add peas, or cooked sausage, or cooked ham, or anything else in the dish.  Annalena prefers it as simple as possible, but has been known to take the one left over cup of ricotta and add it to the cubed cheese, and/or to add a cup or so of green peas.  This is your call, as will be much in this recipe.

As the sauce nears the end of its time, preheat your oven to 375 and get a big pot of water boiling.  Add plenty of salt (at least a tablespoon), and pour in one pound of dried ziti.  Cover the pot part of the way to help bring the water back to a boil faster, but do NOT cover it completely.  "Pasta needs to dance" as Lidia says, and so it does.  When the water comes to a boil, stir the pasta, and do so periodically, for ten minutes.

Ten minutes is not long enough to cook the pasta completely, which is fine because... you're going to bake it.  Remember? 

Perhaps the biggest complaint that people have about baked pasta dishes is that they are too dry.  Annalena thinks this is from the use of pans that are too big.  This dish would seem to call for a 9x13 inch pan, and it will indeed fill it.  And you will get dried out pasta.  So use smaller dishes - perhaps a 9x9 and an 8x8, or two of each .   Drain the pasta, and now put enough sauce into the bottom of the baking dishes, to cover them with a thin layer.  Scoop out two cups of the sauce into a big bowl, and then toss everything into the sauce.  Stir it well to distribute it, and plop it into your pans.  Then, spoon a little more sauce over the top of each.  Cover each pan with foil, and put them in the oven for 30 minutes.

You cover the pans with foil, to facilitate the cheese melting, and the pasta cooking in the steam of the dish.  After 30 minutes, take the foil off, and notice how the melted cheese sticks a bit.  This is what you want.  Now, raise the heat to 425, and bake for another fifteen minutes.  This gives you some crunchiness.

ONLY after you've finished this, and the pans are steaming on your counter begging to be eaten, sprinkle on some parmesan or pecorino.  You do this at the end because, otherwise, the grated cheese will burn.


And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Annalena does it.

Debra B.  je t'ame, ti amo, te amo, wo ai ni, and anything else you want.  Make it this weekend, and give someone a big, gravy splotchy kiss.